The Gift of Life
by Rhiannon McHugh
Summary: Oy... I'm bad at summaries... Um, it's based around when Zidane and Kuja were in the Iifa Tree, but it branches out (*coughcoughbadpun*) to tell of Zidane's escape and Kuja's life. R&R, please! *Chapter 4 uploaded!*
1.

The Gift of Life

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or any of the characters, yadda yadda... *Sigh* I wish I did, especially Zidany-poo... =^.^= 

Note: I removed the fic from Fanfiction.net for a short amount of time to edit it a bit. LOL! I was up quite late when I originally wrote this and upon re-reading it, I found a TON of mistakes. Whew! But now the mistakes are fixed (I re-played the important parts of the game that had Kuja in them and info about him which, I must say, was far from torture, heh heh). Anyway, on with the new and improved fic! 

The Gift of Life

Zidane sat beside Kuja as he lay weak and dying on one of the twisted roots of the Iifa tree. He felt like one in a trance, figuratively speaking. His body felt numb and unnaturally stiff and he found that, now that he had arrived where he wanted to be, he couldn't do or say anything for the life of him. Questions raged through his mind. Why _had_ he come back? Why had he come to the aid of the very one that had caused so much pain, so much destruction? Why had he come to rescue the very one that that had nearly destroyed his life, that had nearly destroyed the lives of everyone dear to him? 

But then, as Kuja spoke, the answer became clear. Because Kuja, despite all the destruction he had caused, had given he and his companions all something very special--the gift of life. Kuja had rescued them, saved them from the Hills of Despair when he could have easily let them die there. Why he did it, Zidane would never know... or maybe he would. 

"Your comrades were able to escape?" Kuja asked softly, turning pale, dying eyes to Zidane. Zidane kept his eyes averted, not wanting to look at his brother. It hurt too much to look at him, to look at the once vibrant, proud figure who had once been so intimidating and was now lying helpless at his feet. 

Zidane managed a nod. "Yeah... I knew you had something to do with it." 

Kuja sighed. "... I'm glad they made it," He answered, turning his face away and falling silent. 

"Yeah... Well it's our turn to get movin'," Zidane said quickly, perhaps too quickly. Kuja, however, made no move or sound to acknowledge him. He simply stared at something that only he could see, his weak breaths audible in the silence. The silence disturbed Zidane, but for some reason he couldn't find words to break it with. He simply sat there, listening to the sound of Kuja breathing, glad that he was still alive. 

After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, Kuja spoke again, looking back to Zidane, his face emotionless but his eyes filled with regret. Zidane tried not to look into his brother's eyes, eyes that were beautiful even with the shadow of death hanging over them. "I don't deserve to live after all that I've done. I'm useless to this world." 

"No one's useless," Zidane replied, remembering when he had first discovered what he was, what his people were--mindless puppets, vessels for a greater purpose, stiff and soulless, inventions that were created and destroyed at the whim of their creator... "You helped us escape, remember?" 

Kuja didn't reply right away, and when he did, it was not in acknowledgement to Zidane's statement. "After you guys beat me I had nothing left... Nothing more to lose," Kuja went on, his voice growing fainter, weaker. "Then, I finally realized what it means to live... I guess I was too late." 

"Hey! Don't you go dying on me now!" Zidane yelled, breaking from his thoughts instantly as Kuja's body relaxed, his head rolling to the side, his eyes closing, never to be opened again. He was fading fast, but he was not dead yet. His chest still rose and fell in rhythmic but weak breaths, but he was clearly unconscious. He didn't stir even as Zidane tried to wake him... 

A crash from above drew Zidane's attention and he looked up instinctively, a terrifying sight meeting his gaze. The Iifa Tree's roots were swooping down toward them, twisting and weaving their way down swiftly, tearing through any obsticles that happened to be in their way. They seemed to scream as they reached for them, a tortured howl that demanded souls and blood. 

Zidane knew he could have escaped. He could have easily dodged the roots. He could have let them claim the dying Kuja and save himself, returning safely to his Dagger, his beautiful Garnet. 

He could have done all these things so easily, but he didn't. 

Without a moment's hesitation, he threw himself over Kuja's body to shield him with his own, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the pain and darkness that was sure to follow. He was not at all afraid. After all he had been through, how could he be? 

He had no regrets, either. How could he? To have them would be incredibly selfish! He had accomplished so much in his life... He had been admired, envied, loved... He had known joy, sorrow, excitement, hope... 

Hope... Hope was a joke to Kuja. Life had been a joke to him until he had discovered that the joke was on him. He had hoped to be his own person, to be in control of his own life... To be different from the rest, only to find that his hopes were in vain, that he really was not in control. He had spent so much time chasing a fleeting dream... 

Had he ever loved or been loved once in his life? Had he ever known joy? Zidane doubted it. Yes, Garland had played a cruel trick on him, giving him a soul, giving him emotions, giving him a taste of life, but no more. He would never feel these simple joys... He would only know that they existed, and that they would go on without him. 

Zidane, even though he was younger, had lived so much more than Kuja... And that was partly because of Kuja. By dropping him onto Gaia, he had not destroyed him as he intended. He had given him a chance at a better life unknowingly. 

Staying with his brother to the end was the least he could do for the one that had lost so much... But had given so much more. More than he realized. 

The roots roared above, growing louder and more deafening, an ear piercing wail. Zidane didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was loyally, the sound of Dagger's voice echoing through his mind, giving him strength even when something solid struck the back of his head hard, knocking him forward, dizziness and blackness seeping slowly into his mind. 

Just before the darkness of unconsciousness claimed him, he felt Kuja stir beneath him, felt him lift his arm, and heard him whisper a single word: "Protect." 

Zidane then felt his body relax, feeling his own body go limp, his mind enveloped in blackness. The sounds of the Iifa Tree roots striking against the shield that had formed around him were the last sounds he heard... 

*~*~*~*~*~* 

So, whatcha think? Better? Oh yeah, there's gonna be more! I have it pretty much done, just gotta type it all out! Yeah, it's a lot different than the original version *gags*! LOL. 

Note about the end: For anyone who's ever played the game (and beat it), ever notice that after Zidane shields Kuja, the Iifa Tree roots come down, and the screen blacks out that after the screen blacks out there are a series of loud "boom" sounds? Well, I like to think that those sounds were the sound of Kuja using the last of his powers to save Zidane. =^.^= Of course, that's just me, but... 

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	2. 

The Gift of Life

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or any of the characters, nor am I making money off of this fic. *Snaps fingers* 

The Gift of Life   
Part 2  


_Kuja stared blankly at Garland's new creation--a small genome child with dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes... "Just like the rest of them," Kuja thought with a hidden smirk of silent triumph, tossing back his own silvery blue hair haughtily. Garland had created another dud, another mindless, soulless vessel. Yet he claimed that this _puppet_ was different from the others. Kuja laughed softly as Garland dared to compare him to the little clone. _

"What are you laughing about?" Garland snapped when Kuja's laughter became too loud. Kuja instantly put on a serious face. 

"I'm just curious how that... child_ is in any way similar to me. He looks just like the others," Kuja snorted. "How very original. It's a pity perfection cannot be cloned." He added with a yawn. _

Garland's glare dissipated, replaced with a secretive smile. "Do you know why this boy is special, Kuja?" He asked silkily as Kuja worked hard to keep a straight face. What a senile old man! Why did he insist that that vessel was so damn great? That was a rather laughable statement. Only Kuja stood out from the rest, both in mind and body, and that was how it was going to stay as far as he was concerned. 

"No, I don't," Kuja replied, trying to sound somewhat interested. In a way, he was curious. Curious to see what explanation Garland was going to offer. 

"Because, dear Kuja, he has a soul, just like you. Your souls are very similar. You could call him your brother. I modeled him after you, after all. Your soul, at least." 

Kuja could feel his eyes widening. What!? The child had a soul--like his!? How!? "Why did you make another?" Kuja asked, really interested now. 

The question seemed to delight Garland, and he smiled sadistically. "To replace you," He answered simply with the same indifference as always, even as his eyes danced with sick pleasure. "He's my latest model, you know. New and improved." Kuja felt the numbness of shock wear off, feeling it turn into anger. How could Garland talk about lives and souls as if they were no more than toys to be manipulated, machines to be manufactured. But then, as soon as the thought registered in his mind, the answer did as well. Because they were machines... They were toys. And he was merely Garland's porcelain doll. 

"You see, Kuja, you are but a defect. A mistake." Kuja looked up sharply. 

"What did you say?" 

Garland threw Kuja a knowing smile and turned away, looking to his new creation who slept, suspended, in a tank filled with blue fluid--just like the others. "Oh, I never told you? Or did you just forget?" Garland asked, feigning sympathy. "How could you forget? No, it must have been my mistake. Kuja, you were only an experiment. You know that, or you should, at least. This boy, however, is not. He is perfect," He grinned, looking to his new creation approvingly. "Oh, and he does have a name, you know. Zidane. Not that it matters. Well, Kuja, what do you think of your new little brother?" 

But Kuja wasn't there to respond. He had run out of the laboratory quickly and out into the blue light that engulfed Bran Bal. The expressionless faces and blank eyes of Garlands previous creations followed him as he passed by, sending a shiver of dread throughout his very being. So this was the punishment he got for being special, this was his reward for being different. Garland was simply going to replace him, and his replacement was already made! He was no longer special. He was no longer the only one that had a soul and a name. Garland created another to share that fame--no! To take it away! Garland didn't waste any time, did he? 

Kuja shuddered, throwing open the door to what Garland called the "inn" (Kuja really had no idea why there even was an inn in Bran Bal since none of the "normal" genomes ever slept), falling onto the one bed that was within it. How dare him! How could he gloat to him about how perfect that brat--Zidane_--was? And why did he need another? And what exactly was it that made that toddler better than him? _

He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out through the open door at the genomes outside. All of them were gathered around a great pool that reflected blue light, and all of them were staring into the light, as if hypnotized. Moths drawn to a pretty flame... 

Kuja felt sick, but at least he wasn't one of them. They were all soulless and mindless, void of emotion or feeling. They followed the paths laid out for them with no complaint, never dreaming about who they were or even thinking about changing their fates. Did they even think at all? But... Then again, if he had been one of them, he wouldn't be in such a predicament. He would not fear replacement. He would have nothing to lose and nothing to gain. Oh, how simple life would be, spending the whole day staring into nothingness, never wondering about the future... 

He got off the bed and slammed the door shut moodily, not wanting to see them, and returned to the bed, sitting upon it once more. No, he wouldn't change the way things were, even if he could. Being unique, having a sense of self... That was what was important, right? 

Kuja closed his eyes, his hands balled at his sides so tightly that they hurt. Of course that was what mattered. That was the only thing that mattered to him and Garland knew it! That was why he created "Zidane", to spite him, to break his will, to beat him into submission without ever raising his fist! Oh, Garland was as clever as he was devious, but he would learn that his little doll was as well. 

Kuja chuckled softly to himself. Garland really did admire his new and improved creation, didn't he? Well, then why not do to Garland what he had done to him so many times--or tried to do, at least. He would take away what Garland loved most. Zidane. Then, not only would he show Garland that his will was too strong to break, but he would also prevent Garland from replacing him. How long had it taken to create Zidane? Was he so perfect that he couldn't be rebuilt? Once the little monkey was gone, Garland would have no choice but to see him as he was--an individual, a free thinker, his own person. And, if that wasn't good enough, what would it matter? Garland was next on his list! 

But for now, all he could do was do Garland's bidding, tune out what he didn't want to hear... And map out his plans. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Well, whatcha think? Like, no like? R&R, please! 

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	3. Subtle Rebellion

The Gift of Life

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is not mine, yadda yadda, you know the rest. R&R and enjoy! 

The Gift of Life 

Part 3

_"KUJA!" Came the all too familiar voice, reverberating throughout the spacious halls of the Invincible. Kuja smiled to himself. Garland was so predictable, though it had taken a little longer than Kuja had estimated to discover his little "surprise". _

Kuja turned over onto his bed to lay on his side, facing the door of his quarters as the sound of heavy boots thudding angrily against the metal floor grew closer, shortly before the door was flung open, revealing an enraged Garland. In one tightly clenched hand he held a handful of long, silver locks of hair. Kuja's hair. 

"What is this?" He asked, glaring down at Kuja who simply shrugged, brushing back a few strands of hair with a hand. 

"It looks like hair to me," He answered, smiling innocently as he watched Garland's changing expression, watching as his eyes grew bigger as he took in Kuja's appearance. 

His long, waist length silver hair had been freed of it's ponytail and had been cut in a layered style, the shorter front strands curling below his jaw while the longer strands trailed lightly down his back, grazing his waist. And somehow, the four silver feathers that grew out from the part in his hair seemed all the more vibrant. Around his eyes, especially the outer corners, traces of a reddish color could easily be seen, glowing against his light skin and clashing with his blue eyes. 

For a moment, Garland just stared in horror at Kuja who, in his eyes, had completely maimed his appearance. But that moment soon passed, and in the next instant, Garland was laughing. A dangerous laugh. 

"Kuja, is this your idea of some kind of subtle rebellion?" He asked, not even attempting to keep the sarcasm from his voice. 

Kuja shrugged again. "Is it?" he asked simply with the same indifference that Garland had showed him so many times. "I never realized that wanting to change one's appearance was a rebellious act," He added, unable to hide his smirk any longer. Of course it was a rebellious act. Both he and Garland knew that. For a genome to change his appearance to one that was completely different from the rest was a sure sign of a strong will, of a strong soul. Kuja was already quite different from the other "golden haired zombies", but now that was even more apparent. He had changed his already unique appearance, and done so without his creator's consent, an impossible task for any ordinary genome. 

The feel of a strong hand striking against his jaw silenced any further remarks. Kuja winced, biting down on his bleeding lower lip to keep quiet even as his wounded cheek burned with pain, the redness the blow had caused gradually turning black as a bruise began to form. 

"I gave you a life and a soul, Kuja, and I can just as easily take them both away," Garland growled. "The creator's will is absolute. Remember that." And with those words said, he strode out of the room, the door closing behind him. He was no doubt leaving to go check on his darling Zidane. 

Yes, that was perhaps the only thing that was good about that puppet's existence. Garland spent so much time fawning over him that it saved him extra lectures... And beatings. 

Did Zidane get the same treatment? Was he lectured, scolded, beat? Probably not. Such treatment might stain the boy's perfection! But he... He was a defect. He was already imperfect. A few bruises would only serve to compliment his imperfection! 

He rolled out of bed and stood upon the floor to pace across the floor, gazing into the one small mirror that was in his room. Blood streaked down from his lip to his chin and the stricken part of his face was a dark, ugly purple, sensitive to the touch. No amount of any substance would be able to conceal the dark blotch on his white skin. He had to admit, though Garland looked old and frail, he was quite powerful. Too powerful for him... At the moment. 

The red color about his eyes was smeared and, in some places, it cascaded freely down his cheeks. 

Kuja quickly wiped the tears away. He couldn't cry, he couldn't show any emotion that might lead Garland to believe he was weak. If Garland thought he was in any way weak, it would only strengthen Garland's assumptions that Kuja was but a mistake and Zidane was superior to him. Such assumptions were false, of course, but, as Garland said, "The will of the creator is absolute"... 

Wiping away the last remaining traces of hurt, he walked from his gloomy quarters--And tripped over a small body that cried out in alarm. Luckily, Kuja was quick to regain his composure and save himself from a rather ungraceful fall. 

"What are you doing?" He snapped, spinning around to find Zidane sprawled on the floor, rubbing the back of his head sorely as he gazed up at Kuja with humorously large blue eyes, filled with the innocence of youth. An innocence Kuja never knew, even at his nine years of age. 

"Nothin'..." Zidane replied sheepishly, getting to his feet clumsily, his head tilted back to peer up into Kuja's face. "What's that stuff on your face? Did Garland yell at you again? Are you mad?" He poured out in one breath, cocking his head to the side curiously, his little tail twitching. Kuja rolled his eyes, turning his back to the boy. 

"It's called 'blood'," Kuja replied dryly. "And if you were to get smacked around a little, you'd be angry, too." 

"Why?" 

"If you want a demonstration, I'd be more than happy to oblige," Kuja growled, turning to face Zidane, who shook his head quickly. "Hmph. So you do have some sense, after all." 

"Kuja, why was Garland mad at you?" 

"Zidane, why don't you ever shut up_?" _

"Where you goin'?" 

"Anywhere you won't go." 

"Where's that?" 

"You tell me: Where won't you go? And why_ do you insist on following me!?" Kuja asked irritably, stopping so suddenly that Zidane bumped into him and fell backwards. _

"'Cause... 'cause I'm lonely..." 

Kuja laughed. "Well, then why don't you go and make friends with the other genomes, hmm? It's a bit difficult to figure out how best to kill you with you frolicking around me." 

"But they're no fun..." 

"And I am?" Kuja asked, crossing his arms across his chest, a sardonic smile on his lips. So, this was Garland's new angel of death. This was what was to be his replacement. An innocent child who knew nothing of pain, death, or hate, who suspected nothing even when Kuja didn't even try to keep his intentions from him? He didn't even know what blood was, the very liquid that kept him alive, the very liquid that, very soon, would be spilt by his brother's own hand! Yet this was what Garland viewed as perfection. This was what he himself feared! It was all so hilarious in it's own twisted way... 

And it was a good thing that the child was so unsuspecting. His naivete would play to his own advantage. 

"Kuja?" Zidane asked as he began to walk away. "Kuja... the other genomes... they're a lot different from us, huh?" 

Kuja threw an annoyed glance his was. He just had_ to remind him, didn't he? He just _had_ to remind him that he was no longer the only special genome. He just _had_ to remind him that his place was now threatened by a little clueless boy... "And whatever caused you to arrive at that startling revelation?" _

Zidane looked down. "Well, 'cause Garland told me. He told me that you an' me both have souls, too..." 

"And did he also tell you that you were a defect? A mistake?" Kuja spat, not even attempting to hide his contempt. And, with those words said, he stormed away, leaving a very confused Zidane behind. 

*~*~*~*~*~* 

Well, whatcha think? R&R, please! And remember: Only constructive critisizm! Oh yeah, since I am at the moment grounded, the other parts should be coming sooner, since I have plenty of time to work on them! Teehee... And I must say, I am having fun writing this :) 

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	4. Brotherly Love

The Gift of Life (Part 4)

The Gift of Life   
Chapter 4  


**Disclaimer**: I don't own FF9 or anything like that... *Sigh* Ya just have to rub that in, don'tcha? 

Zidane woke up with a start, jerking awake involuntarily. The slight movement, however, sent pain screaming through his body. He bit down on his bottom lip to keep himself silent, grimacing instead. 

He looked around in the darkness, blinking rapidly as his eyes attempted to adjust to the change in lighting. It was so silent. So deathly still and silent, he could hear his every movement, he could hear the rustle of his own clothing, the blinking of his eyes. It was an eerie, unnatural silence. He could feel the hairs of the back of his neck prickle tensely. 

Ignoring the pain in his body, mainly his head, which felt like it had been struck with a club, he tried to rise, but found there was something above him--a rough canopy of bark. "An Iifa Tree root..." He thought to himself. This simple thought brought about another. Kuja! 

He scooted back a little, moving as much as the enveloping roots would allow, and looked down. Kuja lay where he had last seen him, unmoved. However, unlike the last time Zidane had seen him, his breaths could no longer be heard or felt... 

Zidane sighed heavily, shaking his head. He had failed to save him. Of course, there was really nothing he could have done for him at that point, but he liked to think that he could have made a difference. At least he had tried... 

When his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, he began to study his surroundings, focusing mainly on the roots that were twisted about he and Kuja's bodies. His side had been scored deeply by one of the many roots and it bled still, hot blood soaking through his clothes. Every motion spelled pain, but he ignored it for now. The only thing on his mind was finding a way out of that twisted tomb, going home, returning to Dagger like he promised. It hardly registered in his mind that he had just lived through hell against all odds, though it did register in his mind that the only reason he had even survived was because of Kuja, his brother. He saved him, even though he was on the brink of death, even though he had hated Zidane all his life. Hated him up until the day he drew his final breath... 

Zidane sighed. And there was nothing Zidane could do to show his thanks, except for survive this ordeal so his brother's death would not be in vain... 

*~*~*~*~*~*

The night was still and quiet, the only sounds audible being the soft hum of the equipment and engines of the Invincible as it hovered over Gaia, the planet that would one day belong to Terra. Garland had thought it best to make the journey so that both Kuja and Zidane could be better acquainted with the world they would wreak havoc on. It would also give Garland time to study the planet. 

Kuja crept down the hallway as quietly as he could, barefoot so as to make as little noise as possible as he headed from his room toward Zidane's. The timing could never be more perfect. Garland was upstairs in his quarters and Zidane was in his, and, for the first time, neither were awake. Well, maybe Garland was, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't be able to hear anything through the thick metal walls. 

Carefully and painfully slow, Kuja opened Zidane's door and walked inside to stand by his bedside, peering down at him, observing him. He was sleeping soundly, issuing soft, content snores now and then, his tail curled around his body in the same way that a cat does. A tiny bit of drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, shimmering in the moonlight. Kuja grimaced in disgust, glad that he had been given the dignified form of an adult and not that of a slobbering child. 

Gently and cautiously, Kuja reached down and scooped the boy into his arms so tenderly that one might think he was made of glass, silently hoping he wouldn't wake. If he would just continue to sleep, it would make his job so much easier in so many different ways. He paused a moment as Zidane yawned sleepily, waiting for his eyes to stop fluttering, and then carried him out of the room, his footsteps silent despite his speed. He was eager to complete his task. He had to do it before he woke up... or before he lost his nerve. 

But Zidane slept on, blissfully unaware of anything outside his dreams, and Kuja nearly jumped when a tiny tail wound around his wrist as he snuggled closer to Kuja's warm body, nuzzling into his chest and yawning softly. Kuja quickly reminded himself that he was holding the brat that was created to replace him and not just some helpless boy. This was the brat that Garland viewed as perfection. This was the brat that had caused him so much pain and frustration. This was the infant that threatened his very existence... 

His death would be more than justified. He was only killing to ensure his own survival, after all. That was the natural law of nature. Some must die for others to live... 

Tucking his own tail that had somehow managed to escape it's confines securely into his clothing, hiding it in his own denial and defiance of what he was, Kuja glimpsed his own hands and grimaced. Why was he shaking? 

No! He had gotten this far, he couldn't turn back now. He had to hold true to his cause. he had to carry out his plan, even though it wasn't quite a plan--it was more of waiting for the right moment to strike. And he had been waiting. He had been waiting since he was seven years old for this moment, since the first time he laid eyes on what Garland called his "brother". He had been waiting for four years! He doubted he would get another opportunity like this, and if and when he did, it would probably be too late. 

The sooner the deed was done, the sooner he could relax. 

He continued on until he reached the Bridge of the great ship--the area that was farthest from Garland's quarters. It was the area farthest away from any room, for that matter. For a moment, Kuja only stood there, contemplating his next actions while looking at the sparkling blue planet below the hovering ship he was on. Gaia, Garland had called it. How ironic that the very planet that Garland planned on melding with Terra meant the exact same thing as Terra: Earth. It was beautiful from this high above, though it's brilliant sapphire blue aura bothered him in the same was that Bran Bal's light bothered him. According to Garland, however, that blue aura would soon turn to crimson as Terra claimed it. 

And Zidane was to be the one that would help make Gaia into Terra. Zidane the perfect model. Zidane, Garland's new angel of death. 

With exaggerated care, Kuja set the sleeping Zidane down on a sort of pedestal that happened to be nearby and took a step back to observe him, making sure he had not been disturbed. But he made no move save the shivers that were brought on by the sudden lack of warmth. 

There was Garland's angel, the angel that was to be his own downfall. The helpless, shivering boy whose skin was unflawed, having never been touched roughly by a bitter hand, whose conscience was clear and emotions were free of harsh words--save the ones Kuja delivered him. But even his words had little effect on the boy's spirit. No, Garland had always been there for him_, reassuring him, telling him how perfect he was. He was his angel. _

And then he would yell at Kuja for daring to mistreat his "brother", scolding him for his wrongs and beating his with his own physical force. He had learned that Kuja's will was too strong to break with threats and words, and so now he attempted to do so using both insults and pain in an attempt to scar both his body and soul. 

Poor disillusioned man. The beatings and verbal abuse had only strengthened his defiance instead if dispiriting him. Instead of accepting the submissive and obedient role that was intended for him, he would fight it. 

He could feel his anger and rage begin to boil within him, giving his courage and resolve added strength. It was now or never. It was best to channel that anger into something useful. 

He closed his eyes and raised his arms as he began to work the death spell that would finally purge him of his "brother", his anger slowly transforming into glee. Finally, he would be free, free of the fear of replacement. Now it would be he that was perfect, for Zidane would no longer be there to claim such a position. Now it would be he that would serve as Garland's angel of death... until the time that he would be able to overthrow him as well. With Zidane gone, Garland would have no choice but to accept him. This one small victory over Zidane would mark the start of a much larger one: his freedom and Garland's death. 

Zidane suddenly moved, stretching out, sleepy blue eyes peeling open wearily. Kuja froze instinctively, the final words that would complete the spell and seal the fates of both catching in his throat as those large azure eyes fell on him, eyebrows raised quizzically. 

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked on a yawn, sitting up and grinding the sleep out of his eyes with his fists before embracing himself, shivering from cold. "How'd I get here? Why am I here?" he demanded, his expression turning suspicious as the haze of sleep wore off. 

Kuja quickly regained his composure, casting Zidane a sickly sweet smile. "Doing what I should have done years ago. Killing you," He said, laughing to lighten his own mood as he began to complete the spell. But when a bright blue light engulfed Zidane, archaic and incomprehensible symbols spiraling about him, he jumped back in alarm. Was Zidane not as helpless as he had believed? 

For one fleeting moment Kuja actually believed that Zidane was using the powers that must lie dormant within him, but that moment soon passed as the realization of what that light actually was hit him. Cursing beneath his breath, he made a grab for Zidane, but was too late. The blue light had faded away, and with it so had Zidane. 

Kuja slumped to the ground as though the weight of his defeat on his conscience and pride was too heavy to carry. Zidane had escaped, and it was his own fault. His excitement and anxiousness had made him careless, so careless that he didn't realize that that "pedestal" he had set Zidane on was actually the teleportation platform used to teleport to the land below. Now Zidane was gone, and who knew where he could be! Somewhere down on Gaia he lived on, safe from Kuja. Alive. All that waiting, all that planning... What was it all for? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He had waited four years to dispose of Zidane, only to have his own plan backfire on him. Only to fail. Only to allow Zidane to escape to Gaia, far from his view, out of his reach... 

A new realization entered his consciousness at this thought. Perhaps this was not for the worse, but for the better. Surely Zidane could not survive on his own for long--he was so young and had been pampered so much, shielded from everything bitter. Would Zidane be able to fend against the many savage beasts Garland had said roamed the land? Or did Zidane even arrive on land? Might he have ended up in the ocean to drown or be devoured by the sea creatures that lived there? And if those didn't kill him, surely the elements would. He could starve, dehydrate, die of heat or cold, consume something poisonous... There were so many possibilities! All the odds were against him, and Garland would never be able to find him--or his body--on that great planet. 

Not only was it certain that Zidane would die, but it was also certain that this would leave Kuja relatively innocent. Sure, he had been the one that sent him to his death, but he would not be the one that would deliver the final blow. That would be nature's job, and only nature could be blamed for destroying the boy. Perhaps this would save his own life. 

Kuja knew there would be hell to pay for this action. He might be able to save himself if he hurried to his quarters and feigned innocence before Garland discovered Zidane was missing. He might be able to fool Garland into believing that the disappearance had been Zidane's own mistake. 

But Kuja was not about to do that. He was not about to hide anything from Garland. When Garland asked where Zidane was, he would tell him. And he would tell him that it was he who did it. And he would take whatever punishment Garland issued without complaint, knowing that he had succeeded. He had spited Garland like he had done to him so many times. he had proved to his "master" that he was the superior genome, that he was not a defect. He had done what no genome could do--including Zidane--and that was disobeying his master's will. Disobeying his creator's will. He was different. His will and soul were stronger than the rest. He was perfect! Garland would have no choice but to accept that, even if he would never admit it. 

Kuja felt a smile curve his lips, and unbelievable sense of pride and accomplishment welling up inside him. It was over. His replacement was gone, and with him so were his fears. he stood and turned to make his way toward his room but stopped just as quickly. Garland was there, his white, emotionless eyes watching him. 

"What are you doing?" Garland growled, arms crossing over his chest as he waited for an explanation. He had obviously caught the faint hint of wickedness in Kuja's smile. 

"Standing here, contemplating the one end of thousands that Zidane may meet..." Kuja felt his courage rise, flicking his gaze onto Garland, defiance in his face as he nearly purred the next two words. "On Gaia." 

"What did you say?" 

Kuja smirked. "Your angel is no longer here. He is on Gaia, and I put him there." Kuja said, his voice slow and deliberate. he didn't hold anything in. He rubbed this information into Garland's face proudly, reveling in his reaction. Though Garland's reaction to this news was outwardly controlled, Kuja could practically feel his stomach churning in disgust and rage. "You'll never see him again. All you have left is me," He continued, smiling proudly as he grinded the truth into Garland's mind like salt grinded into a wound. Just as he suspected, Garland responded not only with bitter words, but painful blows as well. 

"You fool," Garland growled, glaring down at Kuja who had been thrown to the ground by the force of the blow. "Do you know what you have done? Do you truly grasp the severity of the act you have committed?" 

Kuja grinned up at Garland rebelliously through his obvious pain. "Of course. I've defied you, my own creator. Zidane, who you deemed perfect, could never be strong enough to do that, yet he threatened me. So I discarded him like you might do me." He wiped his chin clean of blood with a hand. "All you have left is me," He repeated. "I will become your angel of death." His last statement had so many more meanings outside the obvious, outside the intended. He would do Garland's bidding, act as an angel of death to Gaia, act as a dark messenger, wreaking havoc upon the land as Garland desired. And then, when he was strong enough... He would become Garland's own angel of death. 

Garland laughed coldly. "Don't you understand, Kuja? Your will is too strong, and that is the single most factor that made you a defect, an improper vessel. That is why I nearly discarded you. That is why I will discard you today." 

Kuja was prepared for this. He had basically killed Zidane, after all, and his confession practically invited death. This was his just reward. He barely resisted when Garland took him roughly by the hair and led him away, nor did he flinch once between the blows that eventually rendered him unconscious. The last thing he remembered in his daze was the sting of a needle puncturing his skin, entering a vein in his arm, pumping some fluid into his blood. No doubt it was a toxin that would claim his life... 

But it didn't matter. He had gotten Garland to admit it, even if it wasn't openly, that his will was too strong to break, even when under death's shadow. And he knew, deep in the back of his mind that he was not a mistake. He was perfect. He was Kuja. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Whew! Another part down, a bunch more to go! Well, tell me whatcha think, okay? R&R! The review box is lonely and needs some friends! 

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